Winning
by Miss. Miyazawa
Summary: Makoto's guide to happiness was only living obediently, through hard work and structure. But some things can't be planned, like falling for Motoko, who is everything he isn't. How can this love survive? And what will happen to his lifestyle now?
1. Chapter 1

I got sick after Christmas Day. (Yeah, how's that for a late Christmas present?) I won't get into the entirely gross details, but the point is that I feel better now, and that's all that matters. To me anyway.

This is a story about Makoto Takei and his outlook on life, and how Motoko changes everything. It is my earnest hope that everyone finds it entertaining. I'm kinda posting this in a hurry, but I proofread as best as I could. However, if I've made a really dumb spelling mistake (or just a spelling mistake in general) or if I messed up with grammar, please tell me. Well, let's start this thing!

**Disclaimer: I kinda don't own Furuba, so... yeah, I kinda just don't.**

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The only thing that matters is winning.

Whether it's at sports, academics, or just life in general, it's the most imperative thing.

It all goes back to Darwin's theory: Survival of the Fittest. What adapts better to new surroundings? What gets the food, the shelter, the companionship? It's the strongest, biggest organism that conquers all. Those without the necessary traits to survive fall into extinction. They have lost, and the strongest have won.

It's not just satisfying, it's necessary to live.

Look at it this way. Compare two students: one with a grandiose lifestyle and one born to poor parents. One would assume that the better-off man would find happiness, seeing as he is born with the upper hand. But the rich one is slovenly, relying on only his name and wealth to get him through life, while the poor one works hard to achieve his goals. One day, the rich man becomes bankrupt and the other, who has toiled and labored so diligently, builds his own company from the ground up, becoming richer than the now-poor man ever was.

It's not just succeeding, it's working hard to do it.

No one wants to fail an exam. No one wants to cause their team to lose miserably in a P.E. game, incurring the ire of their team. And because no one wants to fail at absolutely everything, it is also worthwhile to never endure anything. Enduring means living through a painful matter. Overcoming a tribulation is so much more gratifying.

I have yet to hold hands with someone. Love is a force that isn't meant for me. Couples are abound in this school and I walk past them, uncaring. They will surely have their hearts ground into the mud someday. High school romances aren't known for lasting for long. The love between children cannot survive in such an environment. Both parties will eventually lose, they'll cry, and I'll still pass them by apathetically.

I am fully aware of the hatred most of the students harbor for me, but it's not my fault that they are trouble-makers, flawed and unabashed to flaunt their shortcomings. I've worked hard to achieve my position as president. It's their fault if they get scolded by me.

So you see, by leading this straight path of obeying and respecting trusted adults and living a clean, polished life, I am playing the game of life skillfully.

The kids smoking by the school gate will end up as hopeless drug-addicts in the gutter, destitute and beyond salvation. The exhibitionists behaving inappropriately when they think I'm not looking will live their entire lives in ultimately unsatisfying promiscuity. And those who unabashedly disobey school rules by wearing the opposite gender's uniform will suffer under public speculation, horror and scrutiny, and the cross-dresser will be confused and miserable their whole life. Nothing positive ever comes out of blatant disregard for the rules.

Order. Decorum. Conduct. Winning.

The commands I live by.

Win in all areas of life to secure your future.

Establish order around you to avoid swerving off of the path of righteousness.

Exercise proper behavior in public situations.

Conduct yourself accordingly.

There is one who does none of these things.

She's stupid and ridiculous.

Her behavior is atrocious.

She takes pleasure in abusing others, all in the name for "her" Prince, who isn't hers in actuality.

A selfish, loathsome, lazy, uneducated, foolish girl, if she could be referred to as such.

Motoko Minagawa.

Her club is established for the sole purpose of squabbling with girls and "protecting" someone who needs no protection.

Yuki.

He's perfect. At sports, looks, scholarly achievements, he excels at them all. Everything he tries, he succeeds.

He makes me feel honored to breathe the same air as him.

Motoko makes me feel disgusted that I share the same earth as her.

Of course, her friends are equally prosecutable.

Minami is a dunce who's as annoying as her constant dog-ears ponytails.

Mai is the dumbest of them all, like an alien from some intergalactic sphere: strange and impossible to figure out, not that anyone would want to.

That other girl--God, what's her name?--is the most average, but with the standards set by these bimbos, her normalcy isn't by much.

But Motoko is truly in a league all her own. She's all three of her friends but far exceeds them in idiocy.

The only game that girl's winning is being the most inconsiderate, rude, brainless person she can be.

There's nothing remarkable about her at all.


	2. Chapter 2

You know what the hardest thing about posting a new story is for me? The whole process, the incessant checking of my Inbox, the anxiety... I can't help but think that **this** time, I'll **definitely** get a flame. But I think that even all of that is worth it. Is this what it means to be a writer? Or obsessive? I'm not entirely sure, but I've gotten this far, right? My babbling has gone on long enough.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket, but hey, life's still good.**

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The annual school trip is an important facet of our school civilization. It marks a hiatus in learning, a breather from the "rigors" of academic life. There are the trips to the museum, to the aquarium, the learning-based places that are reputable for being sources of harmless, productive fun. But to crown these exciting days, one of leisure is planned. Last year, we went to the beach. Of course, one girl broke her leg, two guys stepped on glass, needing stitches, and others sustained serious injuries.

Oh, but really, it was a rollicking good time.

The school nurse, teachers, and the student council had to step in to untangle the fiasco and apologize to the parents of the injured.

But other than that, what a splendid idea!

Sarcasm is a form of humor, correct? And everyone says I have no comedic prowess in me.

So it is evident why I'm against these diversions from learning. It's too much of an effort to go through year after year, especially with such a large number of students in attendance.

To mark the end of my presidency, such a trip was scheduled. It was vouched by students and faculty alike, and I had no choice but to bend this one and final time.

A suggestion box was presented to each grade level. This alteration from last year, that the class president of the third-years was the only one who could pick the place for the school trip, was enacted by Mrs. Urashima, who told me that everyone deserves a chance to be heard. I agreed whole-heartedly, but I had to wonder... If people like Momiji were able to be heard, and if such a person's destination was picked...

I shuddered to think of the consequences.

But it wasn't my place to object. Children are to obey their betters. Underclassmen must respect their upperclassmen. It's simply the cycle of life, the natural order of things.

So I offered no word of complaint, especially when every suggestion box was presented to my council mates and me.

Dozens of suggestions were read.

The amusement park!

The beach! (Oh, really now!)

Harajuku!

Jeju Island! (I believe some idiot thought that there were actually enough FUNDS for this???)

Through the outlandish scribblings on the pieces of folded paper, I came across Yuki's suggestion. (I'd recognize his handwriting anywhere; no characters could've been written so precisely, in such a noble, neat, beautiful way.)

School picnic.

To some, this would've sounded too commonplace, but it was the best idea anyone had come up with. I mean, Tohru cane up with the "bright" idea of going to the zoo. (Tohru's handwriting is wobbly and uncertain, matching her persona, as if she were apologetic for writing it. She should have been. What an elementary suggestion!)

And so the trip's destination was picked: Umemura Park.

The day couldn't have been more picturesque. The sky was a limpid blue, barely a cloud to mar its surface. When such an intruder dared cross the burning marigold sun, the sky sent a huge shadow of a slightly darker tint than itself. The wind was neither too demanding nor too much of a pushover. Peach blossoms poured a delicious fragrance into the breeze.

"I must commend you once again for choosing such a gorgeous site for our picnic!" I couldn't help but gush to the profound presence next to me, the stately successor for presidency. I must admit, catching him by the arm and hauling the delicate boy to the front of the line was out of line and entirely too forward of me, but I had to intervene. That loathsome orange-headed boy was provoking my Yuki! How else could I have solicited his attention?

Yuki looked perturbed as he swung his gaze away from mine, his eyes like irises diamonded by a spring rain. "It was nothing," he replied in his flawless, feather-delicate voice, bringing two fingers to the pinkish-red mark on his cheek that was almost the exact shape as a strawberry. But unlike the delicate fruit, this wound had been anything but sweet. _That ruffian_, I had to think while glaring at that boy. _He will pay dearly for this._

I felt another presence dominate my right. I glared at the female presence turning us into a Yuki sandwich.

Curse her for turning my beloved prince into a common food supply!

"Hey, Yuki." The lazy, rough-sounding, tomboyish, streets-hardened, eardrums-breaking (is that enough descriptions?) greeting floated from Arisa Uotani's sullied mouth as she seized him roughly by the arm. To the startled Prince, she barreled on. "Don't hang round this guy too long. His stupidity might be contagious. And he's a total dork, but you didn't need me to tell you, huh?" She tilted her head back and laughed.

Seething, I snapped, "Arisa Uotani! I'll have you know, I am fully aware of the fact that you skipped school yesterday. I could have you expelled like that." To emphasize my point, I snapped my fingers in triumph with a smirk. "And I am not an idiot, nor am I, to use the term you coined, a "dork", so do not refer to me as such."

"Yes," an eerily soothing but entirely blood-freezing intonation sounded from Arisa's side. "I sense very strange waves coming from this boy. He is way too strict. Despite his needing to lighten up, deep feeling love love waves are radiating from him for—"

Blushing, I snapped her sentence in two. "Lighten up indeed!" My voice wobbled like a child's first bike ride without training wheels. "And speaking of which, Saki Hanajima, might I suggest that you lighten up those nails of yours? Your black nail polish is in violation of the school uniform! Shall I call your parents to address this manner? I doubt they would be pleased."

"You are not, boy, the principal," Saki intoned. I swear her eyes glowed twilight purple as a weird, unpleasant electric sensation spread through all of my limbs. "Shall I teach you a lesson?"

"Count me in," the ruffian Yankee said, but she sounded as if she were speaking into a coffee can. Everything and everyone seemed far away. My soul felt far away.

"You're a scary girl, Hana," a deep voice told the gothic girl. Hatsuharu Sohma slid over to his handsome cousin. "Is this idiot bothering you, Yuki?" he asked with a hand on the boy's shoulder. I couldn't help spotting the illegal spiked bracelet embracing Hatsuharu's wrist, but before I could offer a good reprimand, Arisa cheered, "Hey, let's go find Tohru! This guy's so boring!"

Like some crazed hot air balloon, they floated jerkily back to Tohru and Kyo, dragging Yuki with them as if he were some dangling sand bag.

That was very rude!

We were talking!

He appeared to be relieved, but that had to be for their benefit!

Right?

Suppressing the sinking feeling in my stomach that that wasn't the case, I announced, "This is the perfect spot. Let's set up the equipment here."

A kitten-fur-soft tone graced my ears. "Um, actually, that spot is covered in mud." Yuki pointed to a clearing a few yards away. "Over there might be better."

"Of course, of course! Please, Yuki, excuse my ignorance," I blared as I zoomed to the grassy hill. In all honesty, it was a better spot. The view was lovely from the curved land form. Sunshine favored the direction he'd indicated, like thick braids from a golden-haired duchess flowing down.

"Great choice, Yuuukkkkiiiii! You always make the best choices!" A gaggle (and I emphasize gag, ha ha) of schoolgirls with soft dreamy voices had formed a ring around him, a hula hoop that he surely didn't want orbiting his waist. Motoko and her girls were a drop in the lake of star struck faces. The ringleader had indeed spent the better part of her morning preening in a mirror, donning THE SAME ANNOYING PIGTAILS as Minami, only hers were tied with lacy pink bows bound behind her ears.

(By the way, those pink ribbons in no way whatsoever even tried to match her uniform.)

If that sneaky little harlot thought she could enchant the Prince with those tasteless hair adornments, she had another thing coming.

But before I could rush back to scold her, a group of teachers (and you thought we were embarking on this trip unsupervised, what, with the Beach Incident still fresh in memory) and students began setting up the blankets. Coolers and picnic baskets began their descent on the stretches of cloth.

The mob of students was only a small ring in the miles-long chain of high school students, and I breathed a sigh of relief when reflecting on the fact that there was only one grade level to deal with. Despite this being a school outing, such a large population cannot possibly be adequately protected in one place. Therefore, the three grade levels were at different places. The first-years were at Star Park, we were at Umemura Park, and the third-years were at Achika Point. The third-years were allowed to go to a park that was framed by a beach, but they're older and thus rule the lower classes, so their destination was more extravagant.

There were a few interlopers here (Momiji and Hatsuharu are NOT second-years, as well as some girls I could mention), but their presence was tolerated because they were not a threat to the well-being of others. When I spotted them on the bus, I had informed the teachers, but they didn't seem to care. I will have to come back here when I become a teacher and enforce stricter rules.)

Nothing extraordinary happened between this moment and the time that we stationed ourselves on blankets or under trees. I sat with my council mates, discussing the brilliant reign Yuki will spill onto this polluted school. My friends congratulated me on my long term. As modestly as I could, I told them that they were indispensable to this educational society, and that, yes, I have accomplished many great feats.

(But I have lost two major battles: Momiji still flounces about in the girls uniform and Hatsuharu still refuses to remove his damaging jewelry and let his piercings close. Even now, those blue shorts cry shrilly under the flaps of Momiji's female-tailored shirt. It's as bad as if he were actually sporting the skirt. However, if it were Yuki… The point is, I've failed miserably in conforming them into my ideal—the school's ideal.)

But I don't like to dwell on my failures. Yuki will atone for every wrong I have committed, and there are not many difficulties. He will not let us down!

And I will not let any troubles come to pass on this trip.

That is my solemn vow, the only thing I can do as a president with a dying term.


	3. Chapter 3

A quick note about the last chapter. When Arisa, Hana, and Haru joined Makoto's side, I really wanted to add a hint of Haru/Arisa (I'm really weird, huh. That's my uncannoness for you). But as I was editing, I regretfully had to ommit it so that the relationship wouldn't take away from the plot. Also, my good fanfiction pals, I would be really grateful if you'd review, even if to just say, "meh" or something else that's totally nonsensical. Even if you completely loathe it, I'd probably be all, "... Thank you, fanfiction friend." I'm extending my thanks to peridot scarves for reviewing. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.**

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"Let's play hide-and-seek!" 

Guess who said this gem of a childish suggestion.

Momiji?

Tohru?

Both.

Typical.

This was in response to a random question floating from some delinquent's mouth about the lack of activities planned for today. Seeing as today was a leisurely day, I took it upon myself to, this once, let them plan such games that would entertain them for the two hours that we would spend here.

I believed that I was making a wise choice. Letting the students choose how to spend their time, stepping back like a parent who has accepted that his children were now adults, trusting these ruffian students... It was not an easy task when I'm so used to controlling every aspect of my life.

This act had to be the most profound. Surely this gesture would not go unnoticed! I couldn't go unthanked!

When the gritty-sounding, "I'm bored." bobbed on the wind's currents and the suggestion made by Tohru and Momiji rose to meet his rudeness, crowds of students responded less than enthusiastically. As usual, Tohru's harebrained ideas were too simplistic for even the most content ditz to contemplate.

But then rising--no, ascending like a crown to a nobleman's head, Yuki said, "That sounds like fun."

Beautiful. Hide-and-seek, what a brilliant game! It really did sound like fun!

"I haven't played that in ages..."

"Sounds kinda dumb..."

I saw an upperclassman suck her teeth. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde, which looked sickening with her deeply roasted skin and white makeup. Glitter covered her entire body. "Crap," she muttered. "I guess we gotta play this stupid game if he says so..."

"BE QUIET, WAIF!!!"

You can guess who said this, right?

Motoko and her girls. Motoko was the most animated, slamming a paper fan over the crude girl's head. While this was indeed justifiable, I couldn't just stand idle while a student starts an altercation with another. It was time for some strict words.

When the girl who insulted Yuki's gorgeous idea started using harsh language, I inserted myself between them.

"I believe the correct term is knave," I informed the disruptive child as I raised her arm and removed the "weapon." I addressed the other child. "And as for you, girl, you will not shoot down the ideas of classmates so readily!" I emphasized my words by pointing at her, glaring down at her from the curve of my nose.

The girl rolled her eyes, chewing gum with a disgustingly open mouth. "Whatever, dude. Try not to piss me off."

She stared me down, not even bothering to mutter her insult, but I took no heed. Motoko was the attacker. Physical attacks were more of a problem than verbal ones. Plus, I'm pretty sure that Yuki didn't hear her...

"Motoko Minagawa, those ribbons are..." I searched my mind for some school regulation so that those men-enticing she-devil ribbons could be removed, "...are in direct violation of--of-- Code Number 52 of the Student Handbook!" That book is like my bible, and so it was whipped out of my bookbag and presented it close to her face. I was fairly sure that Motoko wasn't familiar with the school rules, so she wouldn't have any idea of my lie. I pressed on as I lowered the handbook, "And, while we're on that subject, the school rules prohibit any provocation of a student or acting upon such provocation if the roles are reversed. In other words, knave, no fighting."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and darting her eyes over to Yuki, then to me. "Try not to piss me off." From under heavily-lidded eyes, she drawled, "Let's play hide-and-seek. But no one's gonna look for you, Makoto Takei."

And that... that witch uttered a burning obscenity while smirking, then she skipped away with a tune on her lips. Her friends slinked after her with even less than ladylike words for me.

"We--Well I sure as hell hope you'll never be found!" I cried at Motoko's back. A childish gesture, yes, but I had to have the last word. Imagine, Motoko trying to act so cool...

I did notice, however, that she roughly yanked the pink ribbons out of her hair. I had to smile at this triumph.

Only 10 people or so were playing. Tohru volunteered to be the seeker and I suppressed a groan. Was she serious?

I knew it'd take that girl ages to find me, let alone anyone else, so I volunteered to be a sub-seeker of sorts. The two of us found trees to stand by to count.

It's better to find than to hide.

I know.

The seekers have the upper hand. The hiders lie in wait, simple prey for the predator, doing nothing but waiting in breathless fear for their demise.

It's like tag in a way. The person who is "it" is loathed. In the game, children run from "it", laughing. But it's only a matter of time before the fleeing people are caught, much like the secrets they hide.

As I had guessed, that nitwit had trouble finding even Momiji, whose laughter alerted me and everyone else to his location.

And, contrary to the popular belief of idiots and children, if you tiptoe behind a tree, you will NOT instantly become as slim as the tree, thus being obscured from sight. I inferred that Momiji has indeed watched too many cartoons.

Counting…

One.

I found her.

Two.

I caught him.

Three.

Yuki!!! I'll just pretend I didn't see him, walk away…

My quest carried me into a dense forest. Sunlight fell sparsely on the dingy grass. The umbrage made the light golden-green. Birds chirped on occasion, but other than that, there were no other signs of life in this place.

Far from being intimidating, however, it was a nice place to sit and read. I found such a place, a moss-laced log, with just enough room for a passenger. I sat down to rest my legs.

It would be foolish to list all of the mundane hiding spots: behind a boulder, up a tree, behind a bush. These kids. No imagination.

I did find, however, very interesting things.

I found two upperclassmen making out near a brook.

I discovered some punk drinking and carving obscenities into the trunks of innocent trees.

A group of students were plotting to steal the buses and leave me behind. (So glad I caught the schemers!)

Secrets. I found secrets.

Also, as to Tohru's whereabouts. Imagine that, I heard she got lost while looking for everyone. A horrible seeker indeed! I spotted her being comforted by her usual entourage some time into the game.

Yuki included.

I felt my heart drop at seeing this, but I bravely pressed on.

I searched the forest from the inside out and found no one else. I exited the green world, feeling my lungs expand, welcoming fresh air. It was as if the forest, along with choking off all life forms, had suffocated all chances of clean air. A funny thing, because all of the trees would have increased oxygen levels.

Triumphant, I felt a smirk tighten over my face as I headed for the knots of children.

"Time to head back," an instructor announced.

Wow, had two hours passed by that suddenly? I truly hadn't notice the time.

Well, no incidents! Yes, improper behavior, but no injuries at all! A warm bubble of pride inflated in my heart. What a way to end my term: on a happy note, so that—

But wait. That girl, Minami, she was…

Crying!

But why? Out of sadness that I will soon be ex-president?

Outlandish. She and her club should be thrilled that I will soon be gone.

The blonde ran to me and roughly threw her hands on my chest. It wasn't long before her fingers became gnarled. Waves and whirlpools appeared in the fabric of my shirt.

"M…Minami! Let go of me! What is the meaning of--!"

"Motoko's missing!"

She was flour-white and shaken up. Despite her anger, her outburst couldn't disguise the fear in her watery toast-colored eyes.

A panic swept through the teachers, most likely reliving the ire of the parents of those involved in the Beach Incident, but for once I didn't notice. I was numb all over.

I pushed Minami's hands away. So cold, so damp...

Like the frosty wetness all over me. My stomach tied itself around the words.

_Motoko's missing!_

"Find her. Find her! FIND HER!"

"C... Calm down," I said as steadily as I could. Clearing my throat, I said, "I'll find her."

I always thought Minami was annoying, and my opinion hadn't changed. But seeing her, angry, scared, and upset, biting her lip, I couldn't help it. As a man, I noticed how pretty she was.

It was an odd realization, one I had no time to mull over.

There was something much more pressing to tackle.


	4. Chapter 4

I wanted to make this a completely K to K+ story, but my profanity has gotten the better of me. And, c'mon, saying darn and heck just doesn't make the same impact. I try so hard to be good... Please, bear with me. Have fun reading! Oh, and the serious cursing doesn't come in until later on.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Furuba. Sorry, ask someone else.**

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Back through the forest.

I couldn't walk. I couldn't run. I did this weird shuffle through the foliage.

My pulse was speeding.

I was drenched.

I was thirsty.

Hungry.

Hot.

...Scared.

Yes, as much as it pained me to admit it, I was scared.

This was supposed to be a fun, uneventful day (in terms of unfortunate uneventful) and she ruined it!

Shit!

Where was she? Where the HELL was she?!!!

She couldn't have gotten lost, right? But seeing as her IQ was about the equivalent of a tomato's, I could very clearly picture her--

Oh, no.

What if it were worse than that?

What if she were injured?

Stranded?

Abducted???

_No. Impossible,_ I rationalized as a crazed laugh fell from my mouth. If a group of hoodlums wanted to kidnap her, they wouldn't go so far as to throw her in the rickety old van. Motoko would annoy them so much that they'd give up.

And what would such a group do this for? Motoko's a high school student, not some rich heiress. But if they had caught sight of the school buses, what could they've been thinking then?

What would they hold Motoko ransom for?

School lunches?

Giggles sizzled in my throat and toppled through my teeth. Saliva thickly coated my tongue and I felt as if I were on the verge of choking on it but I didn't care.

My vision became distorted because of the tears in my crescentic eyes.

My arms twirled around my stomach in an attempt to soothe that aching part of me.

My legs became boomerangs and before I knew it, I fell.

This made me laugh harder.

In.

Out.

Gasp.

Wheeze.

Composure.

There. Finished.

_That's right_, I thought as I got to my feet, brushing grass, dirt, and leaves from my pants. _I have to stay focused. A student is in peril now. If she's injured_...

And the weirdest thing happened.

I felt my heart drop.

But it wasn't because of her! It was because of him. In my mind, from the first day I met Yuki, I knew he was destined to be class president. He had the maturity, the intelligence, and the poise to take on such a job. All throughout my term, I inwardly promised myself and him that I wouldn't mess things up. I would be at his level, or close to it. I'd try to be as good as him.

My term was ending and I had done the best I could to avoid trouble.

And then Motoko had to ruin it all.

I felt a variety of emotions as I checked the places she might be.

Behind a boulder.

Frustrated.

Up a tree.

Angry.

Behind a bush.

Really fucking pissed.

I threatened that trouble-making girl with stormy, dark words, stomping around blindly, looking in places that fat heifer couldn't possibly hide, like under pebbles or in streams. "Oh, when I find her... I'll make her pay for ruining everything with her games," I thundered sizzlingly under my breath.

I encountered a hill that conquered the sky when I exited the forest. Its steepness served to intimidate all who dared try to climb it.

I dared to climb it.

Up, up, up.

Puff, puff, puff.

Out of breath. I was so out-of-shape. My grip sucked my shirt into a whirlpool over my throbbing heart.

Finally, I reached the top.

I watched cars pass by on a road, a thick metal rail keeping intrusions to a minimum. Only a few cars drove by me. My lower lip hung open at the sight, but that wasn't what astonished me. I just couldn't believe that...

...On this gray-black solid river, as content as could be...

...Was Motoko.

A plastic bag handle rainbowed over her forearm and joined a generous pouch. I guessed that the girl had purchased some candy.

Candy.

Motoko played with my emotions for some candy.

I wanted to yell at her so badly, but my vocal chords were out-of-order at the time. All I could do was gawk at the brazen little girl.

She scrunched up her nose as if my presence couldn't help but disgust her.

And to think that I'd wanted to find her.

"What time is it?" Loathing and disgust crept into her question. A hand found her huge hip. She twisted her lips into a grimace, as if it were my fault that she'd decided to wander about and worry everyone.

I thought about Minami's tears and I couldn't help the surge of rage spouting in me.

At least one of her friends was so distraught as to cry without her leader and Motoko trampled all over her feelings, hers and mine.

Motoko's the worst, the most inconsiderate...

"Wha... Wha... What-- What time?! Time to head back, that's what time!" I advanced on her, shoulders raised to my ears, rigid legs, a mass of fury. I must've made a frightening sight, but Motoko stood her ground, never once shifting emotions. "You're a bad girl!"

What I interpreted as the fear similar to a disobedient puppy's was actually anger. "Who the hell are you, my father?!" she had the nerve to snap, pushing me. It was a miracle that I stayed atop that hill. "That's the lamest thing I ever heard. Think of something less ridiculous, would you?"

"Well, excuse me! I wasn't under the impression that you had permission to leave the premises! If you weren't going to play--"

"I did play!" she cried. "It was a really good place too! My hiding spot was so good, not even you would've found me!"

"Yeah. You sure did," I said sarcastically with crossed arms and a frown. "Who would've guessed that you were at the convenience store? But that's to be expected. After all, you are always stuffing your face!"

Motoko gave me the look she might reserve for a misbehaving dog. "Would you mind not scolding me in front of him?" An embarrassed Motoko faced Yuki.

And the rest of the students.

Plus the teachers.

Minami, Mai, and that other girl were too busy crying and hugging each other to run to their president.

Or maybe they couldn't get through the mob of kids.

It wasn't Motoko's time to be admonished. The teachers just looked relieved that a student wouldn't be making headlines with her death or something. The students didn't exude the concern of their betters.

"Motoko Minagawa, I cannot, absolutely CANNOT forgive you!" I vowed, pointing at her. "Explain yourself immediately!"

She cocked her head to the side, this time with both hands on her hips as if she were so rebellious and cool. She smirked, then said in a deadly calm voice, as soft as the wind but harshly grating to my ears, "It isn't your place to admonish me."

The breeze covered me, freezing the sweat on my body. I had perspired for this girl. I had wounded my knees for this girl. A hand fell to a kneecap as pain stabbed it, blood boldly bolting down my leg. I'd been so worried about her while searching that I hadn't thought about my pain.

Not only had she insulted me, but she'd embarrassed me in front of everyone.

I was beyond pissed.

It took me a moment to gather my wits, but I finally found my voice. "N...Not my place? I happen to be the president, Motoko!" I desperately looked over at Yuki, who looked up at me with clear eyes. I could see the entire sky reflected in luxurious purple.

Yuki was my sky.

I whipped my head towards Motoko again. If Yuki was the sky, then Motoko was the ground, the dirt, the rocks! She was absolutely worthless!

"So?" she answered bluntly.

"Why, you--!"

"You should be glad, Makoto," she explained in the same deadening voice, twisting her arms over her chest. "You've fixed the disaster that would've made you remembered as the worst president, not that you aren't already. So be grateful."

It wasn't so much what she said, but the way she said it that made me bark, "Glad? I should be glad that you so blatantly disregarded the rules, not to mention that you insulted not only me, but the pureness of the school?! Pray tell, Motoko, explain why I should be glad."

"You won."

"I...won?" I almost choked on the absurdity of her explanation. I blinked, dazedly repeating what I said. "I won."

But what did I win? I was so confused! Was she teasing me? Did she think this was a game? Did she...?

But it was a game. A game of hide-and-seek.

My eyelids fluttered open and closed as confusion sunk into realization.

I had found everyone. The only one left was her.

Hide-and-seek...

I can't believe how ridiculous she...

That was so Motoko of her to say!

And to my surprise I didn't yell at this girl.

Or drag her back to the buses.

Or make her apologize to the teacher for her carelessness.

I laughed.

It wasn't the forest-crazed laughter, but a warm kind, frothing in my throat and spilling forth, as sweet as whipped cream.

You can't win a game like hide-and-seek!

The goofy smile remained on my face as I felt my head tilt. A strange sort of affection for her went through me. I lifted my glasses to wipe the warm tears from my eyes.

"Dammit, Motoko," I said.

And I stepped forward, arms outstretched...

And hugged her.


	5. Chapter 5

I can't believe I forgot to mention the tanned girl! Remember her, the girl who was attacked by Motoko in Chapter 3? Basically she's known as a ganguro, a trendy girl who visits tanning salons, dyes her hair blond, and wears white makeup. They also wear flashy clothes like platforms and miniskirts. I saw a picture of them and they were scary looking!

With OCs, I spend more time than usual naming them, even though they're really minor roles in my fics. If I had bothered to name her, she'd probably have a name like Leiko or something. (Leiko means "arrogant" in Japanese.) I probably didn't give her a name to emphasize how Makoto looks down on everyone, so that even the most unusual person doesn't have an identity. But enough from me. Disclaimer!

**Disclaimer: I disclaim any claim to Furuba whatsoever. If you blink, you might miss it!**

* * *

The sun was saying goodnight from its ship on the thin clouds. It slowly began to make port behind the hills. In apology for its absence of light and warmth, it left a breath-taking pink and gold sky. Shafts of marigold light stung my eyelids, but as this was the ballad of a dying sun, it didn't severely handicap my sight. 

I sat in the bus with my chin in my hand and my cheek against the cold windowpane. Sleepily, I thought about her.

I should have been furious at Motoko's behavior, but I somehow couldn't rouse my earlier rage. She was like an anarchist, proudly trumpeting her ignorance, her rudeness and shamelessness, but I had to condone her. She was like a small child: naïve and stupid. She didn't know any better.

This was what I told myself, but I didn't believe it.

But it really wasn't her place to… Ooh, if only I had thrown those words back at her, flung them right in her face to let her know her position! She might be a third-year, but she was still below me!

But why did I hold her?

It was the question I asked myself a dozen times, in various languages, but always with the same indecisive result. (Yep, I can speak four different languages: French, Hindi, Cantonese, and Thai. I consider this ability to be among my most salient talents.)

I don't know.

When I discovered Motoko was missing, I felt something terrible. At first, I was simply worried about what would happen to me if something had happened to her. I knew I'd be in severe trouble if it came to pass that she had become involved in a situation in which her life or physical well-being was in jeopardy. I'd lose my reputation, and end my term badly, making it that much harder for Yuki to begin his on the right foot!

But as the search wore on, less of my fear was reserved for him. My heart pounded in terror for her. My reputation, Yuki's reputation, the school's reputation… In comparison to her life, nothing else mattered. Just her. The feeling of my heart dropping was enough of a testimonial.

And then I held her after that embarrassing show of emotion. But how could I forget how fast my heart beat as I did it?

She was soft.

Especially in the middle.

_Perhaps she'd gained weight?_

And she was so warm.

_Yeah, warm from that LONG hike to the convenience store! Wasn't convenient for me or anybody else._

But it felt…. Somehow, in some way…

Nice.

"H—How can I even be thinking this?!"

I covered my mouth, blushing when the eyes of millions of schoolmates focused on me. I was spotlighted, even to the driver. There was nothing for me to do but sink into the slippery vinyl seat to the concerto of laughter.

It took all of my willpower not to look back at Motoko. I felt the heat of her unsolicited glare.

I let my mind flicker to the scene after the strange hug.

She shoved me, but I held on. Her hands were ineffective cat paws against my chest. I didn't care about the disdainful voices around me or her club's protests, not about the fiery gossip engulfing us. For once, it was as if we were sharing the same experience, and that brought me closer to her. I wanted to hold on to that feeling, and the only way I could was to hold her. It was a feeling I couldn't express in words.

But Motoko had a lot to say about this unwanted contact.

She swore.

She called me a loser.

She asked me why I was holding her.

She questioned me about my sanity.

Of her sanity for letting this continue.

And then she ripped herself out of my embrace.

And she gave me this look...

One of surprise and resentment.

Of rage.

And it was as if she were absolutely rejecting my heart.

As if just by pulling away, she'd shredded my heart into pieces.

One last glare before she sauntered off.

Her friends gave me watered-down versions of her stare while mashing Motoko into their arms.

I'd never forget those cruel, steely eyes.

Winter eyes.

Cold, cold winter eyes.

"Motoko...," I murmured sleepily. I could feel my eyelids droop. "Why did you... Who are you to... It wasn't your place to..."

Before I knew it, I dozed off.


	6. Chapter 6

I really like this chapter, but I still don't own Fruits Basket. That's all I wanted to say.

* * *

Things were back to normal.

A week has passed since the trip. A new beginning was on the verge of coming.

I was working on a speech to give before the student council and the second-years. I just couldn't come up with anything to say. My pencil was as short as my index finger, as tiny as the one line on my paper.

I'd sharpened my pencil so often, but I hadn't figured it out until now.

Inattentive. Not like me at all.

In the corner of the sheet was her name. It wasn't like it was huge or in a giant heart, but still...

Very strange behavior.

I quickly erased it.

How wonderful. A hole.

Now I needed a new piece of paper.

So troublesome.

Trouble always follows when it comes to her.

At school, we existed in two different worlds. Motoko and her friends were entranced with the Prince. I kept my adoration for him a secret as I regulated the behavior around school.

Other than pestering me about the mystery of Yuki's council mates, which could or could not be female, we weren't around each other that much.

We were in two different galaxies.

And this should've given me relief. I wasn't the one who had to actively participate in her schemes. I wasn't subjected to hearing her loud, obnoxious voice. I could pass her in the halls without enduring her unwanted presence.

But suddenly I wanted her near me.

It was a very perplexing emotion. I've never felt it before.

It was so frustrating that I couldn't do anything about it.

My eyes slipped over the exam everyone around me was griping about. It was supposed to have been, like, "so hard" and "impossible to do." Blockheads.

I studied with barely any effort, and look at the shiny red A+ on my test!

"I won," I boasted softly to myself, smiling.

I got up and, with the permission of my teacher, walked out of the room.

The corridors were silent. Empty. Peaceful. I let loose a breath I had pent up in my throat. This was how it should always be. No useless, annoying chatter. Just nothing.

I ventured into the Boys' Room, but I wasn't in need of its services. The bathroom stall that I slipped into would have a different purpose. I locked the door, sighed loudly, and slid down the stall's wall. My head drowned in my shoulders, swinging between them like a door bothered into action by a listless breeze.

I was slumped on the floor.

Defeated.

By a girl.

I am by no means sexist. Women and men are each other's equal in every way. It was just this girl that had gotten to me, thus taking down her entire gender members with her.

I was sore against the female specimen, but did not exactly despise them, that was all I meant.

Calmed to some degree, I unlatched the door and walked out. I had no idea why that ritual always settled me down, but it did. However, the healing process wasn't over yet.

With my head still hanging low, both hands gripped the love handles of the sink. I looked into the mirror as I employed the use of liquid. Cold water pillaged my hands of warmth.

Then I smacked myself.

Hard.

With both hands.

"Makoto, what the hell is wrong with you?! You're so calm, collected, unaffected and you're letting your emotions rule you now?! This girl is nothing! Nothing, you hear me, NOTHING!!! Get it together, okay?!" And with that, I shook a fist at myself, intending to be encouraging when I actually looked menacing, like I was going to beat myself up.

Fate decided to shame me by bringing another presence through the door.

My holly-red face followed my sharply pivoted neck. The kid standing there looked like he was about to run or laugh, perhaps both.

"Exc--Excuse me!" I stammered. Bending at the waist like a door hinge, I raced out of the bathroom.

How embarrassing.

It's all her fault.

_Well, I'll just forget it_, I promised myself. And anyway, of course I didn't act like myself. Look at the facts. That day when I embraced her... I was temporarily insane with happiness. I wouldn't get in trouble or cause trouble if I found her, and I did. It was not because of some strange feelings.

And writing her name... She has caused me so much heartache! She won't apologize for being so negligent and selfish. I doubt she'll even show up for her punishment. Besides, I only wrote it once.

Thinking about her makes me feel ill.

That's all I feel for her, and all I'll ever feel for her.

The bell rang. As if by magic, children oozed out of the classrooms. It was only morning. I yawned. I wished school would end already. (I know, shocker!)

And speaking of the devil... That little wench was headed my way. As usual, she was flanked with her followers. Minami was dreamily looking up at the ceiling. Only one person could cause such a metamorphosis in her... And Mai was chattering, in her own world. But Motoko wore a grim expression.

What happened next, I swear, was out of my control.

I yelled Motoko's name, walked up to her, and took her arm while moving away, robbing her blond and brunette cronies of their president.

"Oh, no! Motoko's been president-napped!" Mai yelled. Minami's brown penny-loafer collided with my back as she yelled at me.

"Hey!"

I spun around, wondering why Motoko was so submissive. I didn't know why, but this worked in my favor, so I could take her... Wherever I wanted to take her. "If you stop me, I'll tell everyone about...it."

I didn't have any dirt on Minami, but she immediately paled as she looked down. She was no longer doggedly trying to save her. Mai was taking a nap on the floor... Jeez, that girl was so odd.

I flounced off with my bounty.

* * *

It was pretty awkward walking with her.

My hands tightly gripped hers. Motoko's hands were hot and moist. She dragged her gaze across the floor, tears filming over her eyes.

"Hey!" Dropping my hold, I turned to her. Her hands clasped each other as if afraid. She looked so pitiful, so defenseless and unlike herself at all that it startled me. "Why'd you let me drag you off like a wild animal? Don't you have any will?" I laughed hollowly. "You're such a strange girl."

"What do you want? I have class. I don't wanna be late."

Colorless.

If Motoko had to be described as a color, she would be a fighting red. But this dullness made her bloodless, without a soul.

I had to come up with an excuse for this bridge between worlds, and fast.

"You need to atone for what you've done," I told her. "You're so stupid. Did you really think you'd be able to escape punishment?" I let my hands find my hips. "After school. Clean the bathrooms."

She glared me down. "What?"

"'What?'" I mimicked. "You heard me. That's not coming from me, but the principal. I'm just relaying the message." Whew. Good thing I remembered.

"I can't."

"And why not?"

She avoided my eyes, using her toe to scratch the back of her leg. "Got stuff to do."

The tardy bell rained a juicy reprimand to the dawdlers in the hall. Just hearing it made me feel drenched in shame.

"Oh, really. Like what?"

"Just stuff! God, why are you so annoying?!"

"...Finally, a response," I intoned after my initial shock. I gave her a strained smirk. "At least you've found your voice again. I was getting worried there. Whatever you do, Motoko, don't ever lose your spirit."

I had to walk away after saying something so cool. Just like in a romantic manga!

Wait! There's no romance between us! There never was and never will be!

A frail butterfly wing hand settled on my shoulder. I swerved around again, sighing. I truly was tired of having to turn.

You know, those navy blue bows on the sides of her head were like giant butterflies.

Wow, I never noticed, but in the light, her hair had gold and red strands in it, like mini-highlights.

Her eyes seemed warm in the sun. How could it be that those eyes could look so soft and loving yet carry so much torment? What had made her so sad?

And why did I want to make this beautiful girl happy again?

Her downcast eyes bobbed to the surface, scorching right through the lenses of my glasses into my retinas. I swear I could feel the heat. "What? I should never lose my spirit?"

"Yes, you irksome person, you finally get it. With such a temper, you're never gonna find a man, are you? I can practically see the old maid in you, spinster on a rocking chair. But with that spirit, you may be able to find happiness. Plus, you're so good at denying the obvious," I scoffed. "Yuki doesn't love you and he never will. But when you're old and alone, you'll just blame it on the person he loves more than anyone. Actually, you should lose your spirit. Change yourself. Become more of a lady and less like a--"

I'd gone too far.

Maybe I'd said what I did to make her red again, powerful and spirited. But insulting her hadn't worked its magic.

Painstakingly calm, she said, "At least I'm not you."

Nausea waved through my stomach. I wanted to throw up. "What do you mean?"

Finally, fire reached her eyes again. "Always looking down on people, acting like this is **your** world and everyone in it has to adhere to your schedule. I'm sick of you, you know that? Everyone's sick of you, of your face, your personality, everything!!! Yes, I may be worthless, but at least I'm not you. You're so fond of telling people what to do and feel? Fine. I'll say it again: it's not your place to judge me. You're not so fucking important."

After that stomach-burning speech, she pulled back her arm so that it resembled a slingshot.

"Go to hell, Makoto," she hissed.

Her fist rushed at me, but only grazed my shoulder with its power.

"Mo--Motoko," I warned. "Attacking the president is--"

The wall crashed into her nose.

Her nose crashed into the wall.

And a giant howl rose through her throat.


	7. Chapter 7

I named the two OCs in this chapter after J-pop artists. Taku is from the group m-flo and Ryohei Yamamoto is one of my favorite male singers. Oh, and the unnamed nurse... She doesn't have a name, but she kinda reminded me of Misao from Peach Girl. I hadn't realized that until now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Furuba.

* * *

Fighting red was everywhere.

Blood spilled from her nose. Rosette drops crashed to the floor. Motoko continued to scream, holding her nose and jumping up and down. Tears flooded her eyes, which were squeezed tightly into crescent moons.

Attention was already ebbing from academics to the predicament in the hall. It was fortunate that no teachers were alerted as of yet, but they would be soon if she didn't stop screaming.

It really looked bad for me.

So I placed my hand over her mouth. Her angry eyes darted to mine.

"Shh," I commanded. With my arm slung around her, I led her to the nurse's office.

It wasn't easy dragging her down the corridor when she was struggling, but I managed. I let go of her mouth after we made it past all of the classrooms.

I opened the door, standing in front of it to allow her entry. " Hold your nose and tilt your head back."

Without so much as a thank you for my courtesy or my good advice, she pranced through the door.

I wiped the spit and blood off of my hand with the handkerchief in my pocket, scowling as I followed her.

The nurse wasn't here today, so there was a substitute. She was blonde and overweight, with pleasant facial features that made her at the very least a handsome woman. Nearly invisible wrinkles creased her rotund face, meaning she had to be in her early forties.

The nurse gasped, meaty hand at her throat. "Goodness. You look terrible, dear. She maternally wrapped her arm around Motoko's shoulders and gently steered her to the sinks. Motoko spun the faucet handle and rinsed the dried blood from her nose, then pinched her nostrils together.

"Good girl," the nurse said. Her pink-nailed fingers felt around the injured organ.

"Ow!" she yelped.

She made a tsking sound from the side of her mouth. "It's not broken, but it is kinda swollen. I should get you some ice..." With her back to me, the nurse said, "Thank you, honey. You're the one who brought her here, correct?" The blonde gave her the bag of ice, grinning conspiratorially at us. "You shouldn't go around letting your pretty girlfriend get hurt like that."

We turned red at the same time. "W--We're definitely not dating!" she and I yelled with violent shakes of our heads, waving our hands as if to push that suggestion far away. "Never have and never will!"

The nurse laughed heartily. "Well, well. It just looked that way... My mistake. Sorry." She placed a spool of gauze bandages in Motoko's hand. "If the bleeding doesn't stop, use this. Keep pinching your nostrils together and tilt your head back. Well, you guys should head back to class. I'll write the two of you some passes."

She gave us two blue slips of paper. I bowed, thanking her for her assistance, and left with Motoko.

Her silent, obedient act unraveled like a ribbon around a Christmas present. Motoko slapped the hand that landed on her shoulder and gave me a titanium look. Realizing my mistake, I pulled my hand back and hastily ran it over my pants leg as if she were contaminated.

"A thank you would suffice."

"Thank you? Thank you?! For breaking my precious nose?!" she screeched.

"It isn't broken, my dear, merely injured. It was your own carelessness and utter stupidity that got you hurt. A less than kind man would've left you to bleed. And what are you doing? Fingers on nose."

"What man? I don't see any man here," she said under her breath. "And don't call me dear." There was no blood erupting from her nose, but she sulkily pinched her nostrils together, muttering something about a foolish old cow and a meddling president. Her voice was pitched like a cat's yowl, squeaky and uppity-sounding. I chomped on my laughter, but I felt a wavy smile appear on my face.

Motoko's fingers were un-clothespin-like with the sighting of her beloved. Her eyes were all wide and shining, either from seeing him or from the pain she sustained, although I had to guess it was the former.

The weirdest thing was that just seeing Yuki would've gotten me excited too, but my heart didn't flutter as fast anymore. I didn't feel nervous or dizzy.

I admired him, held him in the highest regard, would admit that he'd look good in the girls' uniform, but none of those things amounted to love.

And I knew this from the beginning. I just hadn't openly admitted it until now. Perhaps... No, I knew it was an infatuation. He was everything I wasn't and everything I wanted to be. I was a commoner and he was a prince, far above me in the stratosphere, conquering the entire sky. But he had no selfish ambition with his power. He treated everyone not as his equal, but as if the ranks in superiority didn't exist. I loved his kindness, his grace, his appearances, but not the person he was.

If only Motoko could see that she was infatuated with the surface aspects of him and not everything about him. Because, as she has demonstrated time and time again, not everyone was flawless. Even the prince had shortcomings.

But she looked so love struck there.

And even though I knew that she had a schoolgirl crush on him, I couldn't rid myself of that feeling...

Jealousy.

I reflected on all the times she watched Yuki from afar and the brief times she's interacted with him. She never smiled like that...

Looked like that...

Acted like that...

When she was with me.

She grabbed my hand, her wrist coming into contact with mine. Her pulse was proof of her adoration. Without an explanation, she pulled me next to her, behind a wall. Very well. I will comply.

I am getting very compliant these days.

With him were two guys whose faces I couldn't name. A dark-haired boy waltzed beside Yuki, jovial smile and cocky eyes. The other one walked backwards, hands at the back of his blonde head. His eyes were a glittering emerald. Whether these characters were friends or simply pests, I couldn't ascertain. Yuki's face was as stoic and unanswerable as a combatant in a game of sevens.

"Why are you two following me?" the violet-haired boy asked in a strained voice.

"Model student has a pass," the blond taunted, but there was no maliciousness in his statement. On the contrary, he sounded as if we were playfully teasing his brother.

"We decided to skip," the confident black-haired boy told Yuki. "Come join us!"

"I have to go to the office," he responded. He stopped and the boys copied him. Since they were coming towards us, we felt relief at their sudden halt. "I can't imagine what it's for."

"Hey, hey. Perhaps Princey Pie is in trouble? Huh? Is that it?" the blond asked loudly as he melted over Yuki's shoulders, rocking him like a turbulent ocean upsets a sailboat.

"No." Yuki firmly pushed the guy off of him.

I felt Motoko quake with rage. "I wanna mess him up," she hissed.

"Shh." I had no idea why we were hiding, but we'd come this far. "Be quiet. Wait until they leave."

"Yes," she agreed quickly. Where was her defiance? With raised fists, she whispered, "We can eavesdrop on them to find out if that witch Tohru is with Yuki."

"What? How is that gonna happen?"

The answer to that question came in dark-haired's query.

"Hey, Yuki, how's that pretty girlfriend of yours?"

"Who?" He looked genuinely surprised.

"Tohru, of course! I'm asking for Taku though," he snickered, looking at the blond.

Taku whistled with his eyes pasted to the ceiling. "It's not cool being in love with someone else's girlfriend."

Now she was really pissed. She made a move to stride over to them, but I clamped my hand tightly around hers. She sent a dagger-sharp reprimand with her eyes. Tears dangled from her lower lashes.

"You'll ruin everything. Just wait," I ordered, shaking my head.

Yuki sighed as he scratched his head, as if baffled as to why he was still with them. "I can't waste time. I have to go."

"NO!!!" they yelled. Two arms reached for his receding form, hands landing on his shoulders. Walking to his sides, they apologized. "We're sorry. Please forgive us. We're just teasing. We know you're not interested in Tohru."

"Patience, girl. Give and you shall receive."

"But we didn't give anything."

Sigh. Typical Motoko, taking everything I say literally.

"So I, Ryohei Yamamoto, will plead on Taku's behalf. Please, please, please let him marry Tohru, big brother-in-law!"

A mischievous smile softened Yuki's grim face. "Then, as her brother, I'll have to protect my sister from guys like you, Taku. Now, I really have to go now."

Yuki walked past Motoko and me, so I doubted that he found us. I exhaled. Ryohei and Taku shuffled off in the opposite direction, talking excitedly.

"Now we can go." I glanced over at the silent girl.

I'd never seen her so ecstatic. Her whole being emitted total bliss. Her laugh was sudden and frightening, like that of an evil villain in some mindless cartoon.

"Yes! Now I know for sure that Tohru, that she-devil, isn't Yuki's true love! I've got a fighting chance!" Her raised fist fell beside her hip as her joy faded. "But I must work even harder to get her completely out of his heart."

"What?" I stepped away from her. "You've already won half the battle. Not that you have a chance of being with him... But why take away someone he cares about?"

"Maybe it's a brotherly affection now, but he could fall in love with her at any time. Knowing Tohru, she won't give him up that easily. As a fangirl, I must be prepared for anything. Celebrations are for when I've won! And Tohru, whether she's in his heart as a lover or a friend, is still in his heart, is still the enemy. No matter what, I must defeat the enemy!"

I couldn't say I was surprised, but this... I was exposed to the toxic, unedited darkness of her heart.

Selfishness, greed, jealousy, justified by "love." Why do I like her so much? This flawed girl, so petty and childish... Dammit, why'd it have to be her?

"Motoko, what you just said would disgust any guy, let alone the Prince."

"W--Who are you to judge me? Surely you have those feelings too! It's the same with me. I want to protect Yuki more than anything."

"No! Don't you dare compare me to you! Besides, I've given up those feelings! Don't you see? He might not have anyone he loves the most now, but he will! He's just the kind of person who attracts love!"

"I agree! And all he'll want is mine! Mine and only mine!"

"I can't believe this. Can one person be as dumb as you? Just what are you saying? You want to isolate him? Huh? Make him like he was before, not confiding in anyone? Will you drive away his friends, every last one? Then Hatsuharu, Kyo, Momiji-- his family? COULD YOU BE THAT HEARTLESS?!"

"I want him to depend only on me!" she shrieked. Her face was a passionate crimson as she cried. "And you're telling me my feelings are wrong? Is it that bad to love someone that much!? I'm not allowed to want to keep him all for me, just for me? Well? TELL ME!!!"

I took her shoulders captive and slammed her back into the wall. She winced, but I didn't think I did it so roughly as to warrant that response. For some reason, she didn't resist, even when my face came in close.

"You're so damn childish," I laughed. "This is why you'll never have him. Because even if he were miserable, with no one's love but yours, no one's company but yours, if he only relied on you, you'd ignore his pain and live in your own blissful world. But that isn't love, Motoko. That's imprisonment."

"Oh, so you're such an expert of love? You're so unflawed? You're so perfect? No, you're bad too! You're selfish too."

"I'm not perfect. Not at all. When I look at you, it's like looking in a mirror. I see all the worst parts of myself." In a gentler voice: "Why'd it have to be you?"

"Shut up," she moaned, closing her eyes and turning her head. Her cries were kitten-sized now. Her shoulders bobbed up and down swiftly; her whole body convulsed. "You're not so great. You're so bad, Makoto. Worse than me."

That's why.

I wanted to be with her because we're the same.

But in so many ways we were different. She was a carefree girl, without morals, without discipline.

Without my structured life.

My rules.

My goals.

She lives life day by day while I try to map out mine.

Am I winning?

Or is she, by being honest and crying what I'd wanted to say for so long?

My hand fell onto the space above her head. She was still blindly crying. In studied her face intensely the way I'd never studied a textbook.

Those were dead words and theories that interested me, but this was life.

The bad, the good. The pleasure, the pain.

My mouth hovered over hers.

Benevolence, selfishness…

I closed my eyes as I moved in.

...Ambition.

I paused.

Greed.

Motoko opened her eyes just as I was moving back. She couldn't even glare me down with those red, puffy eyes.

"Well, at least you won't have to deal with me anymore," she announced in a dead tone. "I won't be going here for the remainder of the year."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I really don't own Fruits Basket.

* * *

Even from the womb, I was obedient.

According to family legend, my mother knew not only the month and day of my birth the moment she discovered she was pregnant, but the exact time. My father even told me that on that day my mother looked at her stomach and told me I would come when she told me to. It was a phenomenon, the doctors remarked, that she had gone through labor with such an expectant look on her face, as if she were merely waiting for a guest at a tea party. Because of her uncanny sense of future events, I learned not to try deceiving her. Mother had those penetrating eyes that knew my every misdeed, so I grew up a little scared of her. I didn't need mother's or father's interference; I gave myself limits to please them.

My mother had the looks that I lacked. My hair was dark; hers was luminous. My eyes were distrusting fox slits; hers were big and friendly. She didn't share my stringy hair or my awkward frame. We didn't share anything. I wondered if I was truly her son. I'm the spitting image of my father, right down to the glasses.

Our relationship wasn't warm or loving, but she did her best to raise me despite her illness. I can never forget the day she was diagnosed. I was five at the time, but I could still pronounce her ailment: tuberculosis. On a day when her health was particularly bad, she beckoned me to her side. Pale and beautiful, her delicate bird-wing hand fluttered to stroke my face. To think that someone so lovely could bear to touch such an ugly person brought tears to my eyes.

That snowy day, Mother told me, 'Makoto, you don't share any of my traits. You don't have my face or my fluidity of movement. You don't have any extraordinary talents. However, you don't need those to succeed. I love you despite what you do not have, my son. Please...' Her voice went very soft, but I could still hear her clearly. 'This is why you must work very hard to win... To win at life, these are the things you must use: your intelligence and your name. You're very smart, Makoto, do you know that? You're just like your father in that respect. You must study very hard, do well in school, and let that brain of yours grow.

'Takei… Son, your family name is your weapon. You have a very good place in society. We are not rich, but we have a good life. Let people know that you are somebody. And, darling, you must listen to this piece of advice very closely.' I placed my ear next to her mouth. She breathed warmly into my ear. 'Your family name may come last, but it must be the first thing people remember. Remind people of who you are. Don't ever forget that.'

Her recovery inspired me to do as she wished. I was always the snack distributor in kindergarten, the line leader in elementary school, and the class representative in junior high. I made myself stand out, but not in creative ways like starring in the school play or painting skillfully. I was good at being good, and so I always behaved. I was the trust-worthy person, the model student, the outstanding young man who respected authority.

I was the person every child loathed.

It was a lonely road, but I walked it, for my mother's sake, my father's sake, and for my own. If I wasn't living up to my potential, how could I obey my mother's wishes? How could I win at life? It was a scary thought, simply being forgotten. So I endured the taunts, the hatred, the fear and loneliness. I tried to handle it gracefully, but my despair always followed me. I couldn't forget and I didn't want to remember. It was an endless burn that painted itself over my existence, stinging and tortuous.

Once, I thought winning was all there was to life. I thought that being a better person was the only way to live.

Until I found her.

I didn't have the exact details. I didn't know the exact second I regarded her differently, but I knew that she has begun to change me. However, it was too late to tell her--to thank her for ending this selfish way of living.

Without her, the happiness around me, the laughing students, only served to torment me. These halls were desolate, empty, and gray.

I went to my desk by the window. The teacher began the lesson, but I couldn't understand the words and didn't want to. I looked out of the window, something I'd never done during instructional time. The scenery was gorgeous, but I didn't care.

My life revolved around a schedule. Everything, from waking up to going to bed, had a time slot. My school life and home life weren't so dissimilar in build.

Motoko was the nuance that kept my ordered life running smoothly. And without that nuance, I felt useless. Little by little, she folded herself into my life. How little she knew of her importance.

She was no longer the ground, but my sky.

Unrequited affections... Oh, how it hurt! I never thought about it, but the way she felt for Yuki was a painful one-sided affair. And I wanted to be with Motoko but she would never want my heart. I fully understood her pain now. We were too twisted for love, but we both wanted it so badly.

I had to see her. Now.

I jumped up from my desk, the chair clattering in protest and fainting behind me. I yelled something about having to go to the bathroom, then fled the scene. I heard my teacher calling my name, but I didn't dare return. On my frantic path, I literally ran into Minami.

"H--Hey!" she yelled angrily, pushing me. "Watch where you're going!"

I was so relieved to see her, I could've kissed her. That sentiment must've made itself clear to Minami because she eyed me warily. "What?"

She snorted, trembling with red and puffy eyes. Of course. Minami knew.

My hand awkwardly went for her shoulder. She recoiled. "It'll be okay."

She shook her head. "I thought I could be president. But not now. Not like this!" I felt uncomfortable as she bawled into her fists. "She's my friend. Why'd she have to leave?"

My consolation had reached its limit. As insensitive as it was, I had to leave. "Minami, where does Motoko live?"

"Wh... Wh... Why you wanna know?" she sniffled.

"Please. I just need to know. It would be helpful if you told me."

She regarded me with suspicious eyes. "Not because you're better than me and I have to tell you?" she demanded. "And, just so you know, I'm not saying that you are better than me, 'cuz you're not, understand?"

"Of course not. It's because... Because I'm worried about her and... I want to see her. I need to see her."

"Bring her back then. Bring her back!" she blubbered in a half-crazed tone.

The day when Motoko changed roles in my heart floated to mind. I said as warmly as I could, "Don't worry. I'll find her."

"You're cheating if I tell you." She sobbed out Motoko's address. I had to ask her many times to repeat the street name, the house number, what was near her home, but she cooperated without complaint. Well, just one.

"Clean out your frickin' ears and you wouldn't need me to repeat it!"

I laughed as I placed a hand on her head. "Thank you."

Then I sped past her. I jogged past the window where I found her beauty, ran past the place where I yelled at her and almost kissed her, sprinted past the office where that nurse teased us about being a couple. Motoko will never know how my heart now thunders at that assumption.

I dashed out of the building.

I really wasn't winning, was I? Not with my sheltered life. Not with my discipline, my morals. I laughed into the crisp morning air. How exhilarating it felt to flout the expectations of my betters! I pressed my hand to my heart... there. There it was, beating. I was breathing, I was living. For the first time, I felt as if my heart was beating for someone. I had someone to live for! It didn't matter if she never loved me. It hurt like hell, yes, but this was what it meant to be alive.

I didn't care about anyone else's feelings but hers. Hers and mine.

Winning doesn't matter anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket.

* * *

I must've made such an odd sight, with wind-blown hair, thick-lensed glasses, uniformed and straitlaced, dashing down the street. It was barely afternoon and I was unabashedly ditching school.

I didn't know why, but my parents sprang to mind. I guess it was to be expected. All my life, I couldn't help but wonder about the family lives of others, particularly because mine was so cold. What made a person like Miss. Honda so naive and optimistic? What kind of trauma occurred in Yuki's life that had made him so introverted and arctic before Tohru came into his life?

Who sculpted Motoko's brashness, her carelessness? How did her parents create such a stubborn girl? Was it genetics, her upbringing, or both?

All I knew about her home life was that her mother worked at home. Maybe I would find out more about Motoko, if she ever felt the same emptiness with her family as I did, whether she had siblings.

There. I found it. I slowed down in front of her house. The "Closed" sign on the door swung violently as I ran inside. Stairs were my enemy but I climbed them up into her living quarters.

There weren't a lot of boxes in the living room, but it was a horrendous mess. Clothes, papers, and other things were cycloned about. I ignored my neat freak tendencies and burst into another room. This one was equally messy. Motoko was slumped in the middle of chaos, sobbing as her mother towered over her.

"Don't give me any problems, okay?" the sturdy-looking middle-aged woman ordered. "We're moving and that's that, so hurry up. And you're still in your uniform! Seikei's much cuter! You'll love your new school. Now help me pack." She faced me at last.

"What are you doing here? Wait, who are you?"

I guess Motoko has her mother's slow-on-the-uptake-ness.

Ignoring her, I fell to my knees and placed my hands on Motoko's shoulders. "Motoko... I just-- You-- How's your--"

"Who **are** you? You're trespassing!" Her mom held up a broom menacingly.

"Mom!" she retorted sharply. "Don't worry. He's my friend." Before I could enjoy the pleasure of being referred to as a comrade, she gave me an angry look. "Why are you here? Shouldn't the model student be learning things and not wasting his future for such a worthless girl?"

"I just had to--"

"Enough!" Motoko's mother slammed the tip of the broom handle on the floor like a staff. "You're being a nuisance, both of you. Motoko, say goodbye to your friend. And you," she told me, "should get the hell outta here. Unless, young man, you'll be of service?"

"I'll never see him again!" Motoko sobbed into her hands.

"Oh, it's always him, isn't it. Yuki, Yuki, Yuki, all day and all night. What's so appealing about him? He's too feminine-looking. You're better off without him, so suck it up and be a man."

"I'm not a man!"

"Yeah, but you act like one, you tomboy. Just make it easy on yourself and give up on love! The world belongs to the beautiful, not to women like us. Just be a good girl, listen to me, and study hard. You can work at finding happiness that way."

Oh, my God. She actually grew up hearing this? Feeling angry and protective, I shielded her with an arm as I stood.

"You're wrong. Motoko's a beautiful girl and she's talented. Any guy would be lucky as hell to have her. If Yuki can't see that, then..." I shrugged. "Well, then it's his loss."

"Whatever," Motoko's mother snorted, looking vastly irritated. "It's not like she'll lose... her Prince."

Motoko looked up, blinking and wiping her tears away. "Huh?"

Her mother smiled, lightly slapping Motoko's arm. "Silly girl. Your aunt and uncle are coming tomorrow morning."

"Aunt Maki and Uncle Tsutomu?"

"Don't you remember? My sister and brother-in-law's house caught on fire a couple of weeks back. Luckily they weren't seriously injured, but they don't have a place to stay."

"And the boxes?"

She laughed. "Just some things her husband brought over early. And you know how Maki is. She'll break out the white gloves if my home isn't sparkling. It's a hassle to mess up the rooms then clean them up again, but it can't be helped. But the boxes fooled you." Another laugh, but this one was cruel. "God, you should have seen the look on your face! Priceless as hell!"

"You cruel, hateful--"

"Do you feel brave enough to finish that sentence, girl?" the woman challenged, raising an eyebrow at her angry daughter.

"Mrs. Minagawa, I cannot, absolutely CANNOT forgive you!" Pointing at her, I continued, "Do you know how upset she's been all this time? Moping about, acting listlessly in the halls... She wasn't herself! Do you know how much she cares about him? How much she loves him?"

"I--It's just a silly crush!" the hotheaded woman sputtered. She moved in on me with an extended finger poking me in my chest. "Why, you impudent little brat! Who are you to talk back? If I want to tease my daughter, it's none of my business. If I want to insult her, that doesn't concern you. And if I want to play pranks on her, that also isn't--"

I stamped my foot firmly on the ground, startling both females. Seeing as I hadn't even removed my shoes, this thudding sound made the ground shake. "Do you call what you did a prank?! Some harmless little game? Shit, if she's gonna be so upset, then it IS my business! When she's sad or angry or scared... I hate it." I looked at her. She gave me a look that I couldn't decipher.

I couldn't tell her how sorry I was, but I hoped that defending her would make up for all the times I hurt her. All the times I made fun of her feelings for Yuki, all of the times I called her stupid or worthless. I had no right to tell Motoko that her love for Yuki was superficial because I wasn't her. It was the least I could do for her, this revolutionary girl who has changed me so much, and keeps on changing me. She's got me skipping school and talking back to adults... She's making me see how it feels to enjoy life. Even if she never forgives me, she just has to know that I'm on her side now.

The woman smashed her fist into her hip, which was cocked out in attitude. "Hate it, huh. You're interested in my daughter then, boy?" Without waiting for an answer, she cackled.

"I don't know why, but I like you, boy. What's your name?"

"Mako--Makoto Takei, ma'am," I stammered, taken aback by her mood swing.

"I see. Well, Makoto, I suppose you should stay here. It's dangerous to be out side at this time of the day. The police could catch you!" Another rough laugh. "I'll forgive you if you help us clean." She addressed her daughter. "Motoko, do you have any objections to this?"

To my surprise, Motoko shrugged. "Less work for me."

Mrs. Minagawa held up her broom like a baton. "Then let's work!"

* * *

It was an eventful morning.

We dusted the furniture, scrubbed the floors, and cleaned up the things on the floor for an hour. At ten, Motoko and Motoko's mom plopped themselves in front of the T.V. to watch a trashy talk show. I lingered in the kitchen, helping myself to some juice.

They found some guests on the show humorous and laughed loudly. The two of them had the same laugh: surprisingly sharp and unexpected, but pleasant in some way. The mother and daughter sat next to each other; I guessed that Motoko had forgiven her mother for that cruel joke. They looked so close.

I wanted what they had. I wanted that kind of love.

"Back to work," Mrs. Minagawa said. Motoko sighed.

A giant violet stain was like a flower on the wall Motoko and I got to work scrubbing the wall clean.

I watched her, bandanna tied around her head and under her chin like an old woman and decked in a frilly apron. I was a puddle of smiles. She looked so cute, determinedly scrubbing that stain.

"I like that a guy isn't afraid to don an apron, wear a pink scarf, and get his hands dirty doing housework," Motoko's mom chuckled, hitting me with the broom handle. Motoko giggled.

"Yeah, Makoto, you're super stylish," she agreed.

I mumbled something in embarrassment, feeling my face turn scarlet.

There was one apron for Motoko, one for her mother, and one for me, all of them with the same carrot print...

"So, your father helps out with the housework?" I asked the girl next to me.

Her hand tremblingly squeezed the soapy sponge. A cloud of white suds dripped down the surface, acquiring purple veins. I couldn't believe how dramatic the change in her attitude was. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath...

And kept on scrubbing.

I peeked over at her mother, who was warbling a sad love song. She hadn't noticed Motoko's distress.

I wanted to apologize to Motoko for making her remember something unpleasant, but I knew I shouldn't bring it up again. We resumed our work in silence.

At last, she spoke.

"The color of this stain...," she began dazedly, "...is the exact color of Yuki's hair and eyes."

"Purple was once considered a royal color, you know," I told her softly.

"Befitting a prince."

She dropped the sponge into the bucket of water between us and walked away. I sighed as I watched her receding form.

I washed the last streak of the gunk away.

* * *

The place was sparkling.

Literally.

We really did do a good job.

It took almost the entire day just to clean and my body ached, but I was happy.

I removed the scarf from my head and the light blue apron. I examined the garment and sighed for some reason. It was nostalgic, a color as brilliant yet as hazy as a summer sky. I let my fingers trace the tiny red stain and wondered how it got there. As if tucking away precious memories that could break if done too hastily, I softly folded the apron and scarf and placed them on the counter.

A shadow fell over me. I faced Motoko's mother, who was drying a dish. She gave me a sad smile, eyelids covering half of her eyes.

"Thank you for helping. You did a great job."

"It was no problem," I told her, bowing. It still flustered me that I had scolded this woman and yet she wasn't sore about it. I had to condone for it! "I'm sorry," I blurted out. "For yelling at you. It wasn't my place to--"

She held up a hand in dissent. "Don't apologize. You defended Motoko after all, the way a good friend should." She gave me a penetrating look. "The two of you work so well together."

"We argue a lot."

She tittered like a schoolgirl who knew a delicious secret. "Is that so? So you hate each other yet are friends, is that it?"

"I wouldn't call us friends," I admitted with heat scorching my neck and face.

"I'm not making excuses, but the reason I put her down is to make her strong, the same way my mom did. But sometimes I go too far and really do some damage. Silly old woman that I am, I don't realize it sometimes. I know how my daughter is: she's headstrong, just like me. But it's good that someone can accept her despite this."

"Not despite this." I looked at her directly in her eye. "Because of it."

"Oh, God." She smiled. "You want this old lady to cry, don't you."

"Ma'am, I'm not out to hurt you." I gave her my handkerchief at the sight of her tears. "I just want to tell you... to treasure your daughter, because she might not be there the next day. She's going to college soon, right? I just don't want you to end up like me."

"You're a good kid." She cupped my face with her hand. "I wish you and Motoko all of the happiness in the world."

I blushed. "Wait, what?"

"The two of you remind me... of Motoko's father and me when we were your ages." Even though she said it with a smile, that joy didn't quite reach her eyes. What had this man done to these strong women that had made them so sad?

"I saw the way you smiled at her while you two were cleaning."

"Well--"

"You must love my daughter to bits, don't you?"

"I-- I mean--"

She softly chuckled. "I knew it." And she walked away. Her stooped shoulders were a little higher and she wasn't so upset.

I heard the jingle of keys. "I need to run some errands," she told Motoko in a far-away voice. "Stay here and entertain your friend."

They squabbled a bit, but it was a small scuffle. Her mom got the last word, I discerned, because Motoko came stomping in as her mother left.

She examined me, hands on her hips. "Just what did my fool of a mother tell you?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?"

"Before she left, she winked at me and whispered, 'Don't let that guy go. He's a good catch.' And she looked in your direction, like she knew something I didn't. Did she make wedding arrangements or something? 'Cause that's just gross."

I smiled as I wiped my hands. "But it'd be lovely, wouldn't it? I could wash and cook and clean. I'd be your loving househusband." I clasped my hands to my cheek with dreamy eyes. "Oh, how I treasure you so. I love my mother-in-law so much!"

"Don't joke around like that!" she yelled, punching my arm, but she was laughing. Her sideways smile melted my heart. "She's probably serious." Motoko blushed, as if finally realizing how she was acting. She cleared her throat as she walked away from me.

_That's right_, I thought sadly. _I can't be a part of her family. She's done so much, but what have I done for her in return? Can a boring person like me even compare to her?_

She finally turned to me. Her hands were clasped in front of her like a knotted brooch. The embarrassment was still on her face. "Look," she explained, eyes to the floor, "I don't like you, okay? One day of cleaning isn't gonna make me think any better of you. Saying you were my friend... I had to calm my mom down somehow, and that was the first thing that came to mind. But even so... I can't leave you alone. Mom said stay here, but it's no fun here." She held out her hand to me. "So let's go."

I took the offered hand. Together, we ventured outside.

* * *

During our walk, Motoko and I kept up a flowing conversation, mostly just small talk. At intervals when we fell silent there was no awkwardness.

There are all kinds of silences.

Hostile silences.

Nervous silences.

Bored silences.

But our silent moments were comfortable.

Surprisingly, Motoko wasn't inclined to speak at length today. Snatching glances, I saw a strange look on her face each time. Sometimes I caught her staring at me. I joked that my good looks were too tempting for her to resist. She scoffed at it, but I couldn't help but wonder if she was comfortable being with someone like me. I looked so unusual next to her. Wasn't I embarrassing her?

We reached a playground. The drooping sun spread orange marmalade light over the landscape. Within minutes we found the swings. I stood as she sat, motionless on the swing, save for her feet kicking up dust. A few yards from us, a family were at play. Beaming parents fussed over their tiny child as he bounced a red ball. We were content simply to watch them.

"We were like that once," she remarked. "Mommy, Daddy, and me, in the park, laughing and playing. The three of us would go out for Sunday breakfast and clean the entire house together. Daddy would laugh and sing. Mommy always complained about how badly he sang. We loved each other then. We were so close.

"One day, a nice day like today, without warning, he said, 'I'm leaving.' He stepped over me while I was playing with my dolls, and did just that. He left. He just walked over me like I was nothing."

One tear fell down her cheek.

"I don't know what it was. Maybe it was a jelly jar. But Mom threw whatever it was that caused that stain at the wall. Other than that, there was no outburst. Because the conversation was so calm, I assumed that he'd be back, that it was all a misunderstanding. How could Mommy and Daddy have fought? They loved each other so much. We loved each other so much. But weeks passed and he never came. Why did he leave? And why did Mom leave that painful reminder scar that wall until now? I don't know. I really don't know."

"I'm sorry. I never knew. Had I known, I mean... I wouldn't have even asked that. So, I'm sorry about asking about him and... I'm just really sorry."

Motoko gave me a tiny smile. "It's okay. How could you have known? It wasn't your fault."

Silence.

I felt the need to bare the truth since she told me about her past. "My family is the opposite of yours. My dad's a businessman, so he travels the world a lot. He isn't home very often, so for a while it's just been me and my mom. My mom is very sick. She's getting better with medicine, but she'll always be so frail. I don't blame her for the way things have turned out. It's hard to raise a child lovingly, in a happy home, with an illness and a husband that isn't always there. But I hate the fact that we're always cold to each other. I know Mother and Father love me, and I love them too, but I can't express that. We can't express that."

"So we want what they have," Motoko commented, eyes still on the happy family. "We want the genuine love of a complete family." She ripped her eyes away from them. "Push me," she commanded.

I approached her back and pushed her. Motoko's flight wasn't too far in the sky. Her hands gripped the chains tightly.

"Dad and I would always come here. He always pushed me, higher and higher, until I reached the sky. But I don't need him anymore. I can do it myself now."

I moved back.

With powerful strokes of her legs, Motoko conquered the sky.


	10. Chapter 10

The last chapter. Have fun with this one. And thank you, sis, for reviewing!

Disclaimer: I don't own Furuba.

* * *

I got into trouble.

Me. In trouble.

Apparently my dramatic flight yesterday caught the attention of students, who finally got their revenge on me by reporting my absence to the principal.

My teacher was fueled by rage but those kids had hatred on their side, and so they got to the higher authority first.

As punishment, he tacked a complete second-floor cleaning on top of my week's suspension.

I understood completely and was not angry in the least. Rules are indispensable to any setting, school or otherwise.

But at least I felt that thrill of breaking a rule, even if I had to pay for it.

Actions will always have consequences.

To be honest, I've grown fond of cleaning, so scrubbing the floors, sweeping the classrooms, and washing the windows, among countless other tasks, was an easy feat.

I chuckled as I wiped down the stoves in a classroom. At this rate, I'll grow up to be a first-rate househusband.

I must've baffled the teachers.

Why would such an outstanding, serious boy with such unfaltering morals do something so bad? I was the quintessential student, the pillar of hope in this polluted school. I was always so obedient and respectful, never questioning authority.

It was a bit late in coming, but it seems that my teenage rebelliousness was finally kicking in.

It was about time.

* * *

Cleaning products and bleach was my cologne.

Sweat acted as gel to my tousled hair.

There was dust on my uniform and my glasses were horribly askew.

I looked good.

I laughed. Yes, I'd have women flocking to me soon.

I walked out of school just as the sun was setting. I sighed when thinking about stupid cram school. It was such a pain to go to sometimes, especially after such a hard day as this.

I almost didn't notice her as I began my dejected shuffle down the aisle.

The melting sun met rich auburn.

Before me, body slanted into a brick column of the entrance, leg bent in a "V" so that her foot met this rectangular object, was Motoko.

She didn't look at me, just stared straight into the sky. She continued this stance as she sighed. "What a pain. I waited so long for you, you know." She sprang up vertically, smirking as her eyes finally found mine. " A thank you would suffice."

I stood in complete awe. I couldn't believe that she had actually waited...

...And waited...

...And waited...

...Just for me.

But why? Why would she go through all of that trouble?

She held out her hand to me. "Let's go."

"I'm sorry for making you wait. I had to clean and--"

She stopped my explanation with a raised palm. "I don't care. You're here now. Now let's go." Despite her brusqueness I found a smile decorating her mouth.

I took her hand and walked beside her.

The orange sky and her hair truly were one. She truly was the sky.

I wasn't screaming inwardly in triumph that I had her hand.

I wasn't telling myself that I was winning her over.

I don't want to win her heart. I don't want to have her heart. I want to...

I want to be with her.

I want to breathe the same air as her, share the same earth as her, treasure her.

I didn't need to conquer the sky, just coexist with that blessed being.

Life can't be won or lost, it can only be lived.

I'll only get worse with you, Motoko.

You're corrupting me.

Changing me.

Filling me with light.

"You've turned out to be quite the delinquent," she remarked teasingly.

I puffed out my chest. "Yeah. I have." I stumbled through my confession. "You know, I meant it when I told you to never lose your spirit. Not all of that other stuff, just... that."

Surprise flooded her face. She smiled, reddening.

"Since you've confessed, I will too. When I cried to my mom about never seeing him again... I thought I was sad about Yuki, but..."

She gazed into my eyes.

"I was talking about you."


End file.
